A park I used to walk with fellows in the school days

In this season , I have a place to remember. It is a small park close to my mother school in Tokyo. It's named Kinka Park.

In the evening, after laboratory courses or classes, we gathered in groups of twos or threes at the club room. It was located as semi-basement in an old building of the Dept. of Dentistry. Our school had two faculties, medicine and dentistry. In the long corridor, dark and quiet, before the club room, we often practiced own instrument. The high ceiling corridor made of stone and concrete caused much reverb, which made us feel as if we got better with instruments. Sometimes, we had instant ensemble with the fellows there. One of the standard piece we played was the 1st contrapunctus of the Art of the Fugue.

At around 8 PM, we often went to a restaurant for supper down in the town named Kanda. It took us 10 minutes one way. I can't remember what we have talked about. Still a lot of pleasant talks each other. Maybe, what piece we should play in the next orchestra concert, rumors on the other members, especially on the girls of the other university we cooperated for the orchestra or our favorite music. We felt as if that period of our lives lasted eternally as young people often misunderstood. 

On the way back to the club room, we often sat on a bench or a swing at that Kinka Park. It was surrounded with high buildings away from truncal roads. So quiet. Staying there for several minutes, we headed to the school. Street lamps were shining around the park. This is a photo of the park which I found in the internet. It seems to be preserved now as it used to be. The fellows going to the restaurant together have scattered all around the country. I haven't got in touch with most of them. They must be old enough to retire by now. I really hope to meet them and to walk this park together again not too long from now.  We might lose such a chance of reunion very soon.

As for walking here now, there are dogwood trees along the main street. They have turned to be red now. Some seeds were fallen beneath around such a tree. I thought I would collect some of them and plant them in the garden. But realizing that it would take 20 years or, at least, 10 years for them to grow, I have given it up. No one might take care of our garden by that time.

The leaves might be falling soon. Talking of the fallen leaves, this song sung at the theater of Olympia by Yves Montand comes up in my mind. Even though it was uploaded in this blog, let me do that again. It deserves to listen a lot of times. This song, even though not related with a memory of a sweet heart, expresses what I feel with that small park in the medical school days.